


The Hourglass of Time is filled with Desert Sand

by Mems1223



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Character Study, Freedom, Poetic, Self-Discovery, Slavery, Tatooine, Tatooine Slave Culture, a story told in moments, finding the parallels in the Skywalker Saga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24696418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mems1223/pseuds/Mems1223
Summary: It begins with a slave girl.It begins with sand, and wind, and chains.It begins with a child of the desert.___Or, the hourglass of time is filled with desert sand, and there are truths long remembered by the dust dwellers of the galaxy, truths long forgotten by Jedi and Sith alike.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	The Hourglass of Time is filled with Desert Sand

* * *

It begins with a slave girl.

It begins with sand, and wind, and chains.

It begins with a child of the desert.

Shmi is her name, and she is a girl still, not yet old enough to survive on her own, still needing the reassurance of a parent when facing the unknown.

She has no one. 

She had family, once. If they left her here, or she was taken, she can’t remember. All she knows is that she is a slave, a chip lies beneath her skin, and the spirit of the desert storm rages within her soul.

She is no one, so says the Masters. But she knows, just as the dunelizards and sandsnakes know of beetles, and the roots of the japor tree know of water, so too does she know of freedom.

She cowers to Masters who will never know fear, she cleans for Masters who will never know poverty, she dresses for Masters who will never know chains. 

But still, the spirit of the desert wind lives within her. Still, the twin suns and sister moons guard her. Still, the Mother provides and comforts, her love as endless as the desert.

Shmi is 14 and she knows of freedom. It hides in dark corners and whispered conversations, in midnight celebrations and forbidden love. It hides in the small patchwork families, mothers and uncles and siblings and cousins, never quite matching, but always in sync. 

Shmi is 14, and chooses freedom. She names herself Skywalker, after the Grandmother and the Aunties and Uncles, after the sun, Luka, the Sky Walker, who rids the world of darkness.

Shmi Skywalker is her name, and she is a girl still, not yet old enough to survive on her own. She is sent into the desert, to collect Japor wood and h’kak beans and molo bark, to harvest the gifts of the Mother.

She returns pregnant.

* * *

He is a child of the desert.

His mother tells him often, in the darkness of their small room, their pallet under them and the light of the sister moons glowing softly through their small window, of how he came to be.

She speaks of the desert and of japor, of harvests and flowers and caves. She tells of the storm, shaking the ground like a mighty krayt. She tells of the wind, screaming with the voices of thousands, all those lost to the sand, wandering in search of the Mother.

She tells of how the sand spoke of a man, with the spirit of the desert within him, someone who would rage against the injustice of the galaxy with the power of the Stormbringer, who would strip the masters of their keys and rid the slaves of their chains. 

In the day, when she is cleaning ship parts and re-wiring droid mainframes, she tells other stories. Stories of the Great Mother, who brought life to the desert; of her son, the Stormbringer, whose rage shifts the sands and wears away the rock, who blinds chainholders and chokes keykeepers; of the twin suns, Luka the Sky Walker and Leya Who Rebels; of the sister-moons, Pyra, Senna, and Rya, and the way they tricked the storm into thinking them one; of how the Night fell in love with the Day. 

His mother teaches him to fix droids, to build their bodies and minds the same way the Mother built her children. She teaches him the names of the constellations, the legends of the plants, and the ancient dances. She teaches him to read Huttese the same way they read the omens in the stones and leaves and bones. She teaches him how to count, how to speak to a master, how to speak to a slave. She teaches him to move unseen, to turn away heads and blur Masters’ thoughts. She teaches him to cook, to heal, to spin and sew and smuggle goods and twist words and smile without flinching.

He is a child of the desert, and he is a person. He is his mother’s son, and she names him Skywalker, as she names herself. She names him her son, and she names him after the great Stormbringer, who will come to free their people. 

She names him Anakin. 

* * *

He is 9 years old when the Jedi take him from the desert.

He is 9 years old, and he is Anakin Skywalker and he is a person and he is free.

But he is no longer in the desert.

The spirit of the desert still lives within him, and the anger of the Stormbringer still rules his heart. But he is afraid, afraid because he is cold and alone and he knows all of the legends and stories and rules, he knows how to roam the desert, how to cut japor and read the sands and trick the NoNames without trading his soul, but he is not in the desert and the stories never tell of what to do when the rules no longer apply.

He is 9 years old when they name him Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Padawan, and they name themselves Jedi Masters. They name him afraid, and reckless, and angry. They name him dangerous and they do not want him, but still they keep him. They order him to forget, forget his mother, forget his stories, forget his namesake, forget himself.

He is 9 years old, and he is Anakin Skywalker, and he is no longer a slave, but he is not free.

* * *

He is 23 and he forgets his name and he is still not free.

* * *

He is a child of the desert.

His aunt tells him often, in the darkness of his small room, his bed under him and the light of the sister moons glowing softly through his small window, of how he came to be.

She speaks of the desert and of stars, of queens and water and droids. She tells of the war, shaking the galaxy like a mighty krayt. She tells of the wind, screaming with the voices of thousands, all those lost to the stars, wandering in search of the Mother.

She tells of how the sand spoke of a man, with the spirit of the stars within him, someone who fought against the injustice of the galaxy with the power of the Sky Walker, who dared travel the stars and brave the dunes, so that she might take him as her own. 

In the day, when she is fixing vaporators and repotting seedlings, she tells other stories. Stories of the Great Mother, who taught her children to farm; of her son, the Stormbringer, who showed the freedmen the secret ways through the desert; of the twin suns, Luka the Sky Walker, who was cursed to walk in Darkness, and his sister, Leya Who Rebels, who brought fire to the people; of the sister-moons, Pyra, Senna, and Rya, who battled the Shadows to free their people from Darkness; of how Shadows could give birth to Day, and Light give birth to Night.

His aunt teaches him to grow plants, to feed their leaves and protect their roots, the same way the Mother protects her children. She teaches him the names of the constellations, the legends of the plants, and the ancient dances. She teaches him to read Huttese the same way they read the omens in the stones and leaves and bones. She teaches him how to count, how to speak to a master, how to speak to a slave. She teaches him to hide people, to cut out chips and blur runners’ tracks. She teaches him to cook, to heal, to spin and sew and smuggle goods and twist words and smile without flinching.

He is a child of the desert, and he is the son of a freedman. He is his aunt’s nephew, and she names him Skywalker, as she names herself Whitesun. She names him her nephew, and she names him after the Sky Walker, who brings Light to where there is Darkness. 

She names him Luke. 

* * *

She is 9 minutes old and she will never know the desert.

She is 9 minutes old, and she is Leia and she is the daughter of a freedman and she is a child of the Mother.

But she will never know the desert.

* * *

She is 9 years old, and she will never know the desert.

The spirit of the desert still lives within her, and the determination of Leya Who Rebels still rules her heart. But she will never know of the legends and stories and rules, never know how to roam the desert, how to cut japor and read the sands and trick the NoNames without trading her soul, she is not in the desert and the stories never tell of those lost to the stars.

She is 9 years old and he names her his daughter, and he names himself her father. He names her Leia Organa, and Princess, and Darling. He names her brave and he wants her and he keeps her. He teaches her to remember, remember her mother, remember her stories, remember her namesake, remember herself.

But the stories she remembers are not of the desert, not of the Great Mother and the Stormbringer and Leya Who Rebels, of whom she is named. The stories she remembers are of elsewhere: of Ald, the mighty Smith who forged the sun and carved the mountains; of Raan, the Great Weaver who spins the clouds into thread and weaves thread into snowflakes; of the prophet Leia, who fights not with weapons but with words, who appeased the cruel Sea Keeper with flattery and tricked the Night into giving back the sun.

She is 9 years old, and she is Leia Organa, and she is a daughter of Alderaan. But she is the daughter of a freedman and a child of the Great Mother and she will never know the desert.

* * *

He is 19 years old and he is alone and he leaves the desert.

* * *

She is 19 years old and she is alone and she can never return to the mountains.

* * *

They are 19 years old and they meet and they are no longer alone.

He names himself Luke and she names herself Leia and they name each other friend and sibling and confidant. They share stories and adventures and secrets, and they are no longer alone.

* * *

He is 45 and he remembers his name and he is finally free.

* * *

He is 23 and he brings Light to the Darkness and he is Luke Skywalker.

* * *

She is 23 and she leads a rebellion and she is Leia Organa.

* * *

They are 23 and they are named after the twin suns and they are Luka the Sky Walker and Leya Who Rebels and they are no longer alone.

* * *

He is a child of the desert and of the mountains and of the stars.

The spirit of the desert lives within him, but he does not know the desert.

The spirit of the mountains lives within him, but he does not know the mountains either.

What he does know is the city, the cacophony of multitudes living and breathing and sleeping and laughing and crying all on top of each other and next to each other and with each other.

He is a child of the desert, but he does not know the desert.

His mother tells him when she is home, in the darkness of his room, his bed under him and the lights of the city glowing as bright as day through his curtains, of how he came to be.

She speaks of the stars and of battles, of smugglers and deserts and droids. She tells of the empire, ruling the galaxy like a slave master. 

(She does not tell of the wind, screaming with the voices of thousands, all those lost to the stars, wandering in search of the Mother.

She does not tell of how the sand spoke of a woman, with the spirit of the desert and of the stars within her, someone who rebelled against the injustice of the galaxy with the might of Leya Who Rebels, who dared travel the stars and brave the darkness, so that the galaxy might once again be free. She does not tell because she does not know.)

In the day, when she is on planet and not away on business, she tells other stories. Stories of the Great Weaver, who spins the clouds into threads and weaves threads into snow; of her Husband, the Smith, who carved the mountains and forged the Sun; of Leia the Prophet who stole the Sun away from the Night and negotiated to have storms only half the year by flattering the Sea.

(She does not tell stories of the Great Mother, who Sang the desert into being; of her son, the Stormbringer, who walks the deserts as a weary traveler, rewarding those who welcome him; of the twin suns, Luka the Sky Walker, who saw the light where there was none, and his sister, Leya Who Rebels, whose fire let the people gather at night to plot the defeat of the Masters; of the sister-moons, Pyra, Senna, and Rya, who wove the most beautiful of dresses made of sand and light and wind, worn on the eve the Eldest Moon married the Storm; of how the Day defeated the Shadows, and brought the stars to the Night.)

When she is on planet, and not gone, his mother teaches him politics, to compromise and negotiate, something he wishes he needn’t know. She teaches him the names of the star systems (but not the legends of the plants, nor the ancient dances). She teaches him to read basic (but not the way to read the omens in the stones and leaves and bones). She teaches him how to count, how to speak to a politician, how to speak to a civilian. (She does not teach him to speak to a master or to a slave, but she does not need to. They are one in the same.) She teaches him to hide recording devices, to slice networks and misdirect concerns. She does not teach him to cook, to heal, to spin and sew, but she does teach him to smuggle goods and twist words and smile without flinching.

He is a child of the desert, and he is the son of a freedman’s daughter. He is his mother’s son, and she names him Solo, as she names herself Organa. She names him her son, and she names him after a Legend, a Jedi who brought her hope. 

She names him Ben.

* * *

He is 23 and he renames himself and he is no longer free.

* * *

She is 19 years old when she leaves the desert.

She is 19 years old, and she is Rey and she is Nobody and she is free.

But she is no longer in the desert.

The spirit of the desert still lives within her, and she is afraid, afraid because she is cold and with strangers and she knows all of the routines and scavenger sites and rules, she knows how to roam the desert, how to climb star destroyers and read the sands and trick the Teedos without trading her finds, but she is not in the desert and the traders never tell of what to do when the rules no longer apply.

She is 19 years old, and she is Rey, and she is no longer a slave, but she is Nobody.

* * *

He is 30 and he has forgotten his old name and he is not free.

* * *

She is 19 and she learns his name and she tries to set him free.

* * *

She is 20 years old, and she is Rey and she is Not Nobody and she will never be free.

And she is no longer in the desert.

The spirit of the desert still lives within her, and she is afraid, afraid because she is cold and with a Not-Dead man and she knows all of the mission specs and base regs and Jedi teachings, she knows how to roam the stars, how to fly starships and read the navi-computers and trick the TIE-fighters without losing her friends, but she is not with the Resistance and Master Leia and Master Luke never told of what to do when the Sith Lord is your family.

She is 20 years old, and she is Rey, and she is a slave to her Ancestry, and she is Not Nobody, but she will never be free.

* * *

He is 31 years old and he remembers his old name and he is free again.

* * *

He is 31 and he is Night Born of Light and he is Ben Solo.

* * *

She is 20 and she is Day Who Gave Stars to Night and she is Rey.

* * *

They are 20 and 31 and they are named after Day and Night and they are Night Who Loved Day and Day Who Defeated Shadows and they are no longer alone.

* * *

She is 20 and she is Day Who Loved Night and she is alone. 

* * *

She renames herself, and she is no longer alone.

* * *

Rey Skywalker is her name, and she is a woman, who no longer needs to survive on her own. She goes into the desert, to return Master Leia and Master Luke’s lightsabers, to give them back to the Mother.

She returns free.

She has family, now. They come back for her, or they rescue her, depending on which is needed. And she knows that she is free, knows no chip lies beneath her skin, knows the spirit of the desert storm rages within her soul.

She is someone, so says her friends. And she knows, just as the pilots and sharpshooters know of targets, and the people of the galaxy know of hope, so too does she know of freedom.

She confronts Masters who now know fear, she rebuilds for those who now know prosperity, she fights for those who now know freedom. 

And now, the spirit of the desert wind lives within her. Now, the twin suns and sister moons guard her. Now, the Mother provides and comforts, her love as endless as the desert.

Rey is 20 and she knows of freedom. It abounds in bright courtyards and shouted declarations, in midday festivals and celebrated love. It is displayed in the large patchwork families, mothers and uncles and siblings and cousins, never quite matching, but always in sync. 

Rey is 20, and chooses freedom. She names herself Skywalker, after Master Leia and Master Luke, after the sun, Luka, the Sky Walker, who rids the world of darkness.

Rey is her name, and she is no longer a child, old enough to survive on her own, no longer needing the reassurance of a parent when facing the unknown.

It ends with a daughter of the desert.

It ends with sand, and wind, and broken chains.

It ends with a freed girl.

* * *


End file.
